


Here Be Dragons

by WennyT



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: (again), (boring societal politics: chaoxian/chosun/zainichi kr/daehanmingguk peoples are dragons), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Choo Sunghoon/Akiyama Yoshihiro, Dragons are dragons so please don't see HoMin!dragons as humans, Dragons as another tribe/race in human society, Falling In Love, HoMin dragons are filthy great scaly lizards so uh there is lizard sex, Inspired by Monster Hunter, Kim Heechul (mentioned), M/M, Mates, Son Hojun - Freeform, and National Geographic LOL, this is my love letter to Tokyo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WennyT/pseuds/WennyT
Summary: Dragons mate for life, but Yunho hasn't seen Changmin in twenty years.It doesn't matter; because dragons mate for life.
Relationships: Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 683





	Here Be Dragons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittylovesbambi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittylovesbambi/gifts).



> Best read to a loop of Crimson Saga - ホタルの涙 - 雪降る夜のバラード.  
> Happy 16th career anniversary to the two old men!  
> #TVXQ16THANNIVERSARY  
> #동방신기와_행복으로_이어진_16년 #tohoshinki #동방신기
> 
> -  
> Inspired by Yuka's artwork for Hotaru no namida:  
> https://twitter.com/yuka7220/status/1194894017772716034
> 
> "涙よりも先に 愛し君の前に  
> 儚く光った 真夏のホタル  
> 最後と知らずに 抱きしめた夜が  
> 今も残っている 残っている  
> 好きだよ 好きだよ まだ."
> 
> -
> 
> And this is also me fulfilling my own drama fic-style checklist:  
> 與寡常在: C-drama  
> i will go to you like the first snow: K-drama  
> &  
> Here Be Dragons: J-drama/anime.
> 
> -
> 
> For people interested in that sort of thing,  
> HoMin!Dragons are modelled physically after Lagiacrus (Shim) and Rathalos (Jung) in the Monster Hunter universe.

The rest of Yunho’s life comes for him on a nondescript Wednesday morning.

Tokyo finally has a bit of a cold wave, after a warm autumn that feels muggier than usual. His blood already burns hotter than most, and the high temperature puts his human form in a tee and jeans for far too long and earns him too many stares in the mornings, when he and the rest of Tokyo’s workforce cram themselves into the trains for their morning commutes. 

“Room 379,” his colleague raps against his office door frame in greeting. “A feral for you.”

Yunho looks up from the behavioural report he’s editing for the umpteenth time. It’s one of his probation cases, one who lives with a human stepfather and has to learn that a socially appropriate response of “no” involves a verbal utterance and not a plume of fire. “A juvenile? _Ohayou_ , Hojun.” 

There have been too many cases of feral juveniles lately. Yunho blames the rise of a recent popular _manga_ , which has a juvenile unmated protagonist and is heavily lauded in part also because of the Other nature of the _mangaka_. 

Less feted is how the _manga_ also inspired a rash of young runaways, all juveniles who were drawn into the romanticism of undergoing the Change alone by yourself. 

In _manga_ , that results in panels of beautifully drawn ink art, shaded in sepia undertones. In reality, more often than not, the consequences are property damage and physical injuries as well as a long-term negative impact on mental health. 

“ _Ohayou_ ,” his fellow Other social officer responds. Fortunately (if you ask Yunho) or unfortunately (if you ask Hojun), he is also Yunho’s best friend, because Yunho is a workaholic (if you ask Hojun again, to Yunho’s habitual eyeroll) with no life outside of work. 

“No,” he continues, and Yunho’s curiosity is piqued enough that he closes the binder file in his hands. “It’s an adult male. Shifted, and he’s throwing a tantrum.”

“A tantrum?” Yunho’s brow creases. He’s responsible for the juveniles - or in human terms, the teenagers. Adult cases are usually under the purveyance of Hojun and his unit. “How?”

“He was Shifted when the emergency response team found him, and he’s refusing to come out from the Shift. It’s been seventy-two hours,” Hojun says, hands in pockets. “He’s also asking for you by name.”

Yunho’s confused. That doesn’t sound like any of his Other friends. What little he has of them is Hojun and a scant few others that can be counted on two hands. “What about identification?”

Hojun levels him with an unreadable gaze. “He refused to speak until I said I know you. Just kept repeating one sentence before that.”

“And?” Yunho stands up. There’s something wrong. Hojun is uncharacteristically silent.

“He says his name is Changmin.” Hojun finally offers.

Yunho breaks into a run.

\--

"Yunho-yah, this is Changmin. He's our neighbour. He's six this year. Bring him around, okay? Be nice."

"Min-ah, this big brother is Yunho. Yunho- _hyung_. He'll take care of you around the neighbourhood, okay? You have to listen to him."

"Perhaps it's better if- perhaps Changmin can call our Yunho Yuno _-senpai_? Or Yuno _-kun_."

"Oh! You mean…"

"Yes. Because our Yunho wants to only go by his _kankoku_ name. We're _zainichi_. So..."

"Oh, yes, yes! I understand completely. Thank you so much for even agreeing to look after my boy. I-"

"Say no more. We look after our own."

"..."

"..."

"... _Annyeonghasaeyo_."

" _Konnichiwa_."

\--

He knows the holding room Hojun has named. It’s one the adult responder unit uses to cage angry adults, typically unmated males during mating season, who are a danger to both themselves and their surroundings. 

Yunho’s juveniles, even when they’re caught violating the law, usually are escorted to the more accommodating waiting rooms a floor above. 

There’s nothing vaguely accommodating about this. Yunho’s only used it once himself. He woke up in it, disoriented and chained one morning, two days after he was notified of his parents’ passing.

He skids to a stop at a fork in the hallways. Room 370. 371. 

He can already hear growling, although the long line of corridor is devoid of both Others and humans, and all the doors are shut. 373. 374.

There’s the stink of an unmated adult male in the air, heavy and musky with pheromones. 375. 376. 

Yunho tries to calm his own breathing, heart pounding and blood up after his run. It can’t be. It’s impossible. He doesn't want to hope. But he only knows one Changmin. 377. 378. 

Room 379. He stares at the door knob. There’s an ominous rumble beyond it, before all sounds cease. 

A curl of smoke wafts from his left sleeve, where his t-shirt wraps around his bicep. Yunho takes a deep breath, pats out the tiny flickering flame starting at the edge of the stretchy cotton. Wills the faint pattern of scales away and back from his human wrists. 

There’s a sudden snarl, ugly and long and agitated, and the rattling of the holding chains start, loud and jarring.

Yunho takes another breath and opens the door. 

\--

"Don't worry. You can call me _hyung_ in private."

"O-okay. Yunho- I mean, Yuno- _senpai_."

Laughter.

"It's all right! There's just the two of us now." 

" _Ne_! _Hyung_."

\--

His heart breaks. 

“Oh,” he says, stepping into the room. “Oh, Changmin.”

It’s him. It really is him.

It’s been two decades and Yunho’s never seen his adult Other form before. They were too young for proper Shifting then. Yunho only went through the Change a year after Changmin had to leave him. 

But, oh. _Oh_. It really, really is him. 

Yunho can recognize him, from his stink to his scent to his heartbeat. It’s him, for sure. 

Changmin’s magnificent. Yunho had known that he’s Water, because Changmin’s full-blooded born and bred in Korea, before they met back in their childhood. But it’s another thing to be confronted by visceral, physical knowledge of it, by the sight of the blue scales that run from indigo to sky and all the shades in between. 

He’s wingless, being Water, but doesn’t mean anything, not when there’s the long long length of him, undulating and coiling, wicked-sharp claws curving against the stainless steel cuffs anchoring his forearms and hind legs and waist and tail, enforced against Other strength. 

His sides are heaving. He stopped yanking at the cuffs, when Yunho came in, but now he’s started again. He’s working against them hard, twisting in their hold. The scales on his underbelly are so pale, they are almost white. 

“Changmin,” Yunho says. He shakes his head, to focus. Deep breaths. “ _Changmin_.”

First things first. 

“Changmin,” he tries again, voice smooth and soft. Calm. “It’s amazing to see you again. But I’m going to need you to Shift to human.” 

The entire length of Changmin stills. Then he’s growling, and thrashing against the restraints, throwing his weight bodily against them. The concrete slab he’s strapped in to doesn’t move. Changmin’s just going to hurt himself. 

Against his training, and his common sense, Yunho takes two steps forward, because _this is Changmin_. Then he backs up again, because Changmin or not, he’s clearly working himself into a berserker rage. Already there’s foam flecking the sides of his jaw, and his dorsal spikes are powering up, flickering in the dim light.

“ _No_ , Changmin,” Yunho says, louder. Without realizing, he’s switched to Korean. The rounder consonants are familiar strangers on his tongue. “I’m going to need you to stand down.”

Changmin’s hackles raise as much as they can while he’s still bound as such. A rumble starts, low in his chest. 

Yunho takes another step forward. He keeps his breathing slow, and his words measured. “I know you don’t want to. But you wanted to see me, right? You asked for me. I’m here. You found me.”

Changmin’s rumbling softens. It’s evening out, almost a sulky purr. His head is cocked. He’s listening. 

Yunho steps forward again. He’s nearly at Changmin’s head. In his Other form, Changmin’s head is even larger than that of a draft-horse’s. It’s got the same elongated equine look to it, even though the cast of his eyes are more reptilian and it’s draconian spikes and scales rather than hair and skin. Twin horns curl up and away from his forehead. “Were you looking for me? I’m here. Stand down, and Shift.”

The purr peters out into a low whine. Changmin’s right forearm claws open and close, grasping. He tugs against the steel cuff wrapped around it.

“The cuffs are reinforced against our strength,” Yunho says. He dares to lay a hand on the side of Changmin’s jaw, near flaring nostrils. Changmin gives a minute jerk, and butts hard against Yunho’s hand. A great eye, gleaming electric blue, rolls towards him. 

Yunho pats lightly, and scratches at the scales on the slope of Changmin’s nose. “It’s to prevent us from inflicting damage in our Other form. When we Shift into our human forms, they’re programmed to recognize the decrease in mass and that triggers the release mechanism.”

Changmin’s dorsal spikes are muted in their glow. Then their light goes out. 

Yunho goes in for the kill. “I haven’t seen you in twenty years. Don’t you want to have a proper conversation?” 

Changmin Shifts.

A second later, the cuffs click open, releasing his shuddering form onto the cold stone floor. Changmin lies there, gasping and writhing, going from blue and dragon to pink and human. His damp hair is in his face and eyes, and he’s naked, human skin covered in perspiration.

His voice is hoarse. “You Japanese people are bastards. Talk about a welcome. Hi.”

\--

" _Hyung_ , what are those?"

" _Hotaru_ , Changdol-ah. Fireflies. In Korean they are _ban-dis-bul_."

"Oh! I wonder what do they taste like?"

A groan.

"Are you hungry again, Changdol? We just had _onigiri_!"

"No, but… they look like they'll taste like light."

\--

Changmin doesn’t pull any punches. 

They’re in Yunho’s office, after Hojun signs Changmin out without a word, since he’s a first-time offender and a foreigner to boot. Luckily, the charge is a relatively mild one, for Public Disturbance (Other). 

Even though Yunho’s specialization is juveniles, Hojun writes him down as Changmin’s probation sponsor; although he’s got his eyebrows up very high.

Yunho avoids his gaze. 

Changmin’s changed into Yunho’s spare set of clothing, hopelessly wrinkled after months of sitting neglected in his drawer. He makes a face at the creases but puts the shirt and trousers on, anyway. 

The shirt is overly big at the shoulders and the trousers are tight around the hips and slightly too long at his ankles, something Changmin’s clearly fascinated about.

“You’re shorter than me,” Changmin is saying, tone wondering. He’s seated upright, posture painfully correct, in Yunho’s guest chair. To Yunho’s surprise, after the initial comment in Korean, Changmin’s switched to nearly-flawless Japanese. His childhood accent is gone. “How is it that your trousers are longer?”

“Maybe I’ve got longer human legs,” Yunho volleys back in Korean. He’s barely an inch shorter, but somehow Changmin's worrying this non-tidbit like a dog wears at a bone, his eyes flicking to the top of Yunho’s head every now and then. 

Now that the first flush of recognition is fading, awkwardness is setting in. 

They haven’t seen each other in two decades. The last memory Yunho has of Changmin is him running after Changmin’s family car, waving his hand in farewell, while Changmin’s crying face was plastered to the back window, tears smearing the striped glass. 

That face has grown up. Changmin’s human form was adorably gawky as a juvenile, all lanky limbs offset by a round face with rounder cheeks and chubby fingers. 

Yunho stares at him as he is now, fascinated. 

The baby fat’s all but melted off, revealing a set of beautifully sharp cheekbones and a strong straight nose that slopes down, to give way to a generously wide mouth. He’d be all sharp angles if not for the fact that his eyes are still the same, round and long-lashed, like a deer’s. 

Long ago, Yunho was young and stupid and maybe also quite daft himself, and compared those eyes to a famous cartoon deer drawn by humans. 

Changmin’s personality evidently is also still deer-like; strange and prickly and mental. He’s staring back at Yunho too, bold as you please, and announces, “you’re not mated yet, right? You don’t smell mated. Any hatchlings running around?”

“Changmin!” Yunho rears back, his flustered gaze finding the ceiling. Talk about socially inappropriate. This is even worse than half an hour ago, where Changmin just stood around naked and he caught too many glimpses of things that declare the other to be a fully grown adult male dragon in good health. There's nothing wrong with a bit of casual nudity among Other friends but what they were -are- was never friendly in nature and there is also the little tidbit of not having laid eyes on each other for twenty years, the elephant in the room.

“What?” Changmin retorts. He straightens even further in his chair. “It’s a simple question. Are you or are you not?”

He’s still using Japanese. It makes the whole situation even more surreal. Yunho pinches himself discreetly. Not dreaming.

“Well?”

“Changmin!” Yunho says again, because he doesn’t know what the fuck to say. He can feel his blood heating up out of embarrassment. His claws are coming out.

Yunho inhales, and stays human out of sheer will.

“Yes or no?” Changmin pushes. There’s something fragile in his tone that gives Yunho pause, and makes him look away from the frankly fascinating ceiling lights and back down at Changmin. 

He’s still in his human form, but his eyes have gone from dark brown to a bright electric blue. His pupils are reptilian slits, pinpricks of the palest ice. 

The sight of it pushes past Yunho’s discomfort. He swallows. “No, I’m not mated.”

Ice thaws back into brown. “Good. Do you have plans to be. To other people.”

“To other…?” Yunho blinks, and coughs. He shifts in his chair, tries for propriety. “Er. What is the point of this conversation?”

“I went to _Todai_ when I was eighteen to twenty-four,” Changmin changes the subject abruptly, tone matter-of-fact. He’s finally speaking Korean, as he ought to be. “Because you promised. You never showed up.”

It’s not quite a subject change after all, and Yunho’s floored by his next words. “I don’t have your contact number. I went to your family home in Yanaka. It’s all closed up. The caretaker refuses to forward my message. I begged. I asked around, at all your neighbours. You’re _zainichi_ and Other, so they don’t quite care. I didn’t know what to do. I stalled by getting a Masters degree. Then I turned it into a PhD. Once I got that too, I didn't have any other excuse. I had to go back to Korea when I was twenty-five.”

Hojun had given Yunho Changmin’s file earlier, clapping him on the shoulder. It’s thin, because all they could get were his age and vitals when the one sentence Changmin kept repeating in Japanese was, “do you search for missing people? I am looking for Jung Yunho.” 

Yunho doesn’t need to refer to it. It’s been exactly twenty years. He knows Changmin is thirty-one now. 

“Changmin…” Horror and guilt dawns on Yunho. _Todai_. Right. The promise they had made each other as idealistic young boys. 

When Changmin was in university, _here_ , Yunho was indulging himself and wallowing from his parents’ sudden passing and generally being very badly behaved.

University was the last thing on his mind. _Changmin_ was the last thing on his mind. 

By the time Hojun hauled Yunho back by the scruff of his neck into being a marginally functional adult, and made him scored well enough to gain an education at Tokyo University, Changmin would have been back in Korea. 

Like ships passing each other in the night. 

“I-” He stammers. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Ancient history,” Changmin dismisses. He leans forward, gaze wide and intense. “Let’s talk about the now. Do you have plans that involve being mated to other people?”

What is this odd fixation on other people? Yunho frowns. The Changmin he remembers isn’t like this. The Changmin he knows wasn’t this fluent in Japanese, preferring to speak in his native Korean. When he had to speak Japanese, there used to be an adorable up-tilt at the end of his sentences. “I. No, although I don’t see why that’s important.”

“Oh, it’s important,” Changmin says. He stands up. He’s got a triumphant grin widening on his face. “Because I’m going to mate you.” 

\--

" _Hyung_ , I really like you."

"I know, I really like you too."

"You're my Yunho- _hyung_. Nobody else's."

"Okay, Changdol-ah."

\--

After Changmin’s astonishing proclamation, Yunho throws in the towel. He texts Hojun, _I’m taking a half-day off_ , and scrubs both hands (still human) over his face. 

He’s got his hands pressed against his closed eyes so hard, he’s seeing sparks behind his eyelids.

Changmin’s undeterred. “Yunho, did you hear me? You’re mine.”

Yunho’s never rude. He prides himself on trying, on being pleasant to people no matter how dire the circumstances at hand.

He ignores Changmin, and heads for his door in long desperate strides. Wrenching it open, he goes two doors down and sticks his head into his supervisor’s office. 

“Akiyama- _kachou_ ,” he greets. The older dragon looks up, alert. “Is it all right if I take the rest of today off? I’m not feeling well.”

“Ah, Yuno-kun,” Akiyama says. “Go ahead. Take tomorrow off too, if you’re still feeling under the weather by the morning. You rest too little. There’s no need to overwork yourself so much that you make us old bastards look lazy in comparison.”

Yunho bows politely in response, as his boss laughs uproariously at his own joke. Then he’s waved off. 

He goes back to his office, and grabs his wallet and keys. 

Changmin’s still there, although he’s standing now. “It’s rude to walk out of a conversation halfway without a by-your-leave.”

“We are not having a conversation,” Yunho says. His claws are lengthening again, pale fingers sharpening into black-tipped scaly red. Yunho glares at them until there’s nothing but human nails and skin. “ _I_ ’m not having this conversation in my office.”

“Yes, well, _I_ want to have this conversation. Right here. Right now.”

Yunho looks at him. He puts a hand on the doorknob. “Sure. You can have it by yourself, because I’m leaving.”

Changmin’s bristling, and his eyes are glowing again. Yunho continues mildly, “or you can follow me.” 

Changmin brightens. “To your home?”

“No,” Yunho says. He’s got the door opened. He waits for Changmin to step out. “To a place where we can speak freely.”

\--

_"Hyung,_ I really like you."

"I know. You've said it many times. You're my favourite, too."

"No, I mean… I really like you."

"Changmin?"

"I really like you. _Dai suki_."

\-- 

“We can speak freely here?” Changmin asks incredulously an hour later. 

‘Here’ is the front gates of Shinjuku- _gyoen_. It’s late morning, and the chilly breeze coupled with marginally-clear skies means much of Tokyo is out and about for either autumnal picnics, or to have a last gander at the _kiku_ showings. 

“Not yet,” Yunho replies, ducking and weaving between people dragging their picnic baskets and groundsheets. Mostly humans, although he smells a dragon or two. All mated, and the nearest dragon mum has got a distrustful eye aimed at the two of them and two little boys clutched tightly in her claw-tipped hands. “The _Nihon-teien_ is actually part dragon recreation reserve and cordoned off from the general public. We’re going there.”

“What?” Changmin gapes at him. “Isn’t that where all the chrysanthemums are displayed?”

“That’s the human side,” Yunho says distractedly, focused on counting footpaths until, “aha!”

He darts into it, a trail that starts out sedate and curves steeply downwards, too angled for human legs to navigate smoothly. They both have no such difficulties. 

They round a bend, around a swathe of bright red maple trees. Sounds of the bustling crowd are muted here, and the only noise on the wind is the shushing of falling leaves. 

There’s a little babbling brook topped with a small stone bridge. They cross it. 

“There.” Yunho says, coming to a stop in a largish clearing. It’s surrounded by the reds and yellows of _gingko_ trees interspersed amongst the maples. The cherry trees are already bare. “We can talk here.” 

“You just need to,” Changmin starts, and yelps as Yunho Shifts.

His eyes are greedy as they rake over Yunho’s Other form. 

Yunho arches his neck, and stretches, unfurling his wings. He might be displaying, just a little, but it’s also because his last Shift was two weeks ago and he has been feeling stifled. 

He flaps his wings, once, twice, and tucks them back in against his body. The maple leaves swirl in frantic little eddies.

“Oh, Yun, you’re gorgeous,” Changmin breathes. Strange, for someone who maintained his Other form obstinately for a few days since the emergency response team was called in to retrieve him, he’s still in his human skin. 

_You wanted to talk,_ Yunho rumbles, a puff of grey smoke curling from his nostrils. He tosses his head, and spreads his wings again. _So talk_. 

“I,” Changmin says, staring and not even hiding it. “Let me look at you first. I missed you.” 

Yunho claws at the ground. Human emotions are muted in his True form, but still there’s a faint far-off spread of embarrassment down low in his belly. Nevertheless, he holds still, and lets Changmin look his fill.

And Changmin _looks_. He talks, too. “Oh, you’re beautiful. Look at you. When we practiced Shifting, I knew your shoulder scales were reddish black but I didn’t realize… You’re crimson and sable all over. And your wings! The pattern on them. Show them to me again.”

Yunho spreads his wings obediently, all thirty-feet of them, and cocks his head. _You too_ , he insists. 

“In a bit,” Changmin says. He creeps closer, until he’s flush against Yunho’s head. “Can I…?”

Yunho fits his nose delicately against the curve of Changmin’s human palm, careful to not scratch him with the sharpened sides of his facial scales. Changmin strokes a hand up his nasal bridge, and tugs at the crown of black-tipped spikes framing the back of Yunho’s head. “So where’s your fire?”

Yunho spits a gentle fireball right into his face. It's barely a puff, more smoke than fire.

Changmin flinches back, and bats at his bangs. His hair is smouldering. “Yunho! I’m not immune- you Japanese people _really_ are bastards.”

Yunho chuffs, and flops over to his side. He swipes a casual wing against the back of Changmin’s knees, and chortles again when the force of it makes Changmin's human body go sprawling.

“You!” Changmin turns, belly on the ground, and between one twist and the next he’s Shifted. 

He coils and weaves, and gets up right in Yunho’s personal space, too close yet not close enough, wending his great blue leviathan body around Yunho’s. 

Then the game’s on. 

They snarl playfully into each other’s faces, and Yunho tries to pin Changmin with a claw and the bulk of his body weight. In this form, he’s fully capable of crushing cars and buses. 

Changmin wriggles out from under him though, dorsal spikes flaring as he curves backwards. Then he’s rushing Yunho, headbutting him and coiling around Yunho’s torso, aiming his jaws to clamp around Yunho’s left wing and pulling the movement at the last second. 

Yunho rears back, and belches thick oily smoke in his face. Changmin falters, swiping his spiked tail upwards in a wild attempt to defend. Yunho takes off for a low hover, but not before he closes his fangs and teeth high up around Changmin’s left forearm claw for a gentle shake, first. 

_That’s cheating!_ Changmin snarls, and lets loose an electrical charge from the spikes that start from the base of his neck and line his back. 

The fact that they’re on land and not in water, though, means there’s just loud fizzing and a pop, and the light show goes out, recharging. 

Yunho snorts, which wreathes a plume of oily fire from his nostrils, and comes slightly lower to jeer. _Weak. If you’re not serious, please quit now_. 

_I’ll show you serious,_ Changmin roars, and makes a great leap for him, something that should be impossible considering how long and heavy his Other body is. His lunge allows him to get his mouth closed around Yunho’s right claw this time. 

Surprised, Yunho allows himself to be tugged back onto the ground. The split second he gives Changmin is enough for Changmin to coil himself back around Yunho, and poise his jaws over the vulnerable line of Yunho’s exposed throat. 

_I win._ Changmin purrs, the low rolling tones of his contentment shuddering through Yunho. Changmin’s practically plastered against him, as much as their spikes and body armour allows. Somehow, in their True forms, it's easier to allow Changmin such liberties.

Changmin curls tighter. _Can we get on with the mating now?_

 _Not so fast,_ Yunho whips his head against Changmin’s hard enough that the Water dragon loosens his coils. He leaps into the air and lands a slightly more sane distance away. _I said we need to talk first._

 _Talk,_ Changmin sulks. He tosses his head, gives another shake. _Didn’t we just do that?_

 _I mean with words,_ Yunho insists. He folds his wings against his body. _What is this mating business?_

Changmin looks at him and heaves a sigh. It sounds like a gust of wind from a very large pair of bellows. Then he Shifts into his human skin. “You said you loved me, _hyung_. And you smell like you still do, ever since you stepped into that barbaric room to free me. So.” 

Yunho Shifts, too. He folds his human body down on the ground, and sits cross-legged. “We’re very different people now. You don’t know me. It’s been twenty years.”

“And yet you smell the same,” Changmin says, tone hardening. “It’s only been a few hours, but you move and talk and breathe and fight like the Yunho- _hyung_ I know. That’s enough for me.”

“Changdol-ah,” Yunho says, the Korean endearment rusty on his tongue. The nickname makes Changmin’s human face flush. “Changdol-ah, what’s wrong? Why are you here, suddenly?”

“Didn’t you miss me?” Changmin says. His voice is small and wounded. 

“Yes,” Yunho admits. His hands open, and close against his knees. 

“Don’t you love me?” Changmin’s voice is very soft.

“Yes,” Yunho’s voice is softer. “Always.”

They stare at each other from across the clearing. Yunho moves, hesitant. He can smell himself. He can smell Changmin too. His body recognizes his mate, regardless of the skin they are wearing right now. “But something’s also wrong, isn’t it?”

Changmin glares at him, eyes flickering between ice blue and brown. Then he heaves a sigh, and the whole thing comes spilling out.

\--

“What’s this?”

“Fireflies, Changdol. Since you like them so much.”

“Look at them! They’re cute. They glow like my spikes.”

“You’re cute, too.”

“...”

“...”

\--

  
  


“So let me get this straight,” Yunho says again for the third time half an hour later. His head feels like it’s spinning, like when he’s had more than two shots of sake. Dragons don’t metabolize human alcohol well. “Nothing happened? You just… snapped?”

“Something happened,” Changmin flares up, and kicks a pile of messy red maple leaves at him. “I told you she was trying to shove all those unmated female dragons at me!”

“I meant something actually bad,” Yunho elaborates, and bats away the shower of red-brown. “She’s your mother, she’s trying to show that she cares. She doesn’t want you to be alone.”

“She’s known since I was ten that I’m in l- that my life partner is you,” Changmin hisses, face contorted in the grips of a terrible fury, eyes slitted. “that you're my mate. She knows I’m not interested in females. She even tried human females! How insulting.”

“Yes, but,” Yunho tries again. “Us… It will be what the Japanese youths will call a ‘no-egg relationship’ these days. No mother will want that for her son.”

“No-egg,” Changmin scoffs, but he quietens when Yunho gets up to go over to him. Yunho ruffles a hand through his hair, sighing. “Changdol-ah, I kept you waiting for twenty years. I broke my promise to you.”

“Because your parents died and you said you went on a bender, fine, that’s fair,” Changmin interrupts, but Yunho waves that off. 

“Your mother doesn’t know that. I don’t think she’ll care, either. To her, I’m the bad piece of shit drake that broke her only hatchling's heart.” Yunho enunciates steadily, trying to push through Changmin’s obstinacy. Trying to make him _see_. “I’m bad news. She’s just trying to help you move on.”

“Yes, whatever,” Changmin says airily. “We had to agree to disagree, so here I am.”

“But,” Yunho doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Or do both. “You didn’t know where I am.”

“I told you, I figured you’ll still be in Tokyo,” Changmin says. “It’s your nest. You wouldn’t leave. I just had to make a big enough nuisance of myself, then I would have been able to start finding you.”

“You,” Yunho settles for laughing. He scrubs a hand over his face. “ _That_ was why you camped in Hanegi- _koen_ in your Other form for three days?”

“Hey, either the human police or your department would have been the ones to come after me,” Changmin reasons, although there’s a shade of uncertainty in his face. “Whoever it was, they would have the power to look for a missing dragon in Tokyo. I had to start somewhere.”

“I wasn’t missing,” Yunho’s not laughing now.

“Weren’t you?” Changmin brushes a hand through Yunho’s hair, and picks out a newly fallen maple leaf. 

\--

“You’ve been avoiding me, right, Yuno- _senpai_?”

“I- Don’t call me that, Changdol-ah.” 

“Why not? You clearly just are a _senpai_ , yes?”

“It’s not. I’m not. I just want you to be sure, Changdol. You’re young.”

“Stop being ridiculous. You’re only two years older.”

“Yes. But. I just. I want you to be sure. We’re not… It won’t be easy.”

“Are _you_ sure?”

“...Yes. But I’m the _hyung-_ ”

“Then I’m sure.”

\--

It’s easy, somehow. Relearning Changmin.

After that conversation in the park, Changmin follows him home, and then just- doesn’t leave. 

Yunho’s little studio rental in Ebisu is clearly only fit for one, and calling it a bit of a squeeze is an understatement, but Changmin assimilates relatively fast, although he’s not without his nesting quirks.

He’s displaying one of them right now, hissing and spitting in Yunho’s face. Yunho thinks sleepily that it’s probably just as well that Changmin can’t breathe fire, otherwise the landlord will probably sue them for extensive and irrevocable property damage.

“-what is wrong with you- this is ridiculous- it's the middle- why the middle-” Changmin’s not stopping to inhale, and he’s already gone on for quite some time and it’s all quite impressive and perhaps he’s got some snake in his family tree somewhere. “Why do you even- the middle- _the toothpaste tube has an end for a reason_!”

“Sorry?” Yunho tries, and offers him a sleepy smile. 

It does the trick. Changmin turns red, and then generates enough static electricity that Yunho can feel the zap against his human skin. “Ow.”

“Sorry!” Changmin blabbers, still blushing. Then he regains enough of his wits to scowl at Yunho, but it’s half-hearted. “Wait, why am _I_ apologising?”

“My flat,” Yunho says, mild, and goes dig in his cupboards for his morning cereal. 

Changmin’s trailing after him, nattering about something or other. But Yunho’s just suddenly, overwhelmingly glad that Changmin was brave enough to come find him, to try and try again when Yunho himself lacked the courage, that he turns, and steps into Changmin. 

He presses his face against the side of Changmin’s neck, where his mating glands are, and breathes in the stink of him. Still unmated. Still his. 

“Er.” Changmin’s rigid with surprise against him, then he softens, curving his arms around Yunho and noses at Yunho’s temple. “Are we finally going to mate now?”

“You wish,” Yunho laughs, backing off. He knows his face and scent are probably naked with affection now, an embarrassing broadcast of his feelings, but he can't quite bring himself to care. It's just Changmin, and it's for Changmin anyway. “We’re courting first, remember?”

“You say that, but then you do things like that and. There’s a limit to my self-control,” Changmin complains, but he’s smiling, too. 

\--

“Mum doesn’t approve.”

“I…”

“No, don’t be stupid. Don’t apologize. I know what you are thinking.”

“I told you. We shouldn’t.”

“No. We’re sure, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but.”

“She just wants stupid egg babies to play with, in the future. I told her she can have another egg herself, then.”

“ _Changmin_!”

“What?”

“You need to apologize to your mother.”

“What? No.”

“You were being a rude idiot. Apologize to her!”

\--

Yunho introduces Changmin to his few Other friends, explains that they’ve known each other since they were hatchlings growing into juveniles, and realizes abruptly that everyone thinks Changmin’s not good enough for him. 

He’s defensive and angry on Changmin’s behalf the first couple of times it happens, because it's the other way around; he's not nearly good enough for Changmin. After he almost sets fire to an _izakaya_ table, Changmin just pats at his arm and goes evenly, “don’t. They don’t know me.”

“Yes, but,” Yunho starts heatedly, and falters when Changmin shakes his head. He's the one who's projecting _calm and safety_ hard with his scent now, and Changmin's got both arms about Yunho, pressing Yunho's head gently into the crook of his neck against his own mating glands, so Yunho can bend and breathe in the reassuring unmated stink of him.

He cards a hand through Yunho's human hair, maroon-black in the fluorescent lights. “Don’t. Some things take time.”

The only one who _doesn’t_ not approve is, to Yunho’s surprise, Hojun. 

Before, in Yunho’s head, Changmin was Changmin and Hojun was Hojun and who they were to him never quite overlapped. Changmin was Yunho’s juvenile-hood and first love, and after his heart was broken by distance, he enrolled in a mixed human-Other high school and met Hojun, who turned out to be a brother in everything but blood. 

Yunho wouldn’t have survived after his parents’ accidental deaths at the hand of Other poachers, if it wasn’t for Hojun. 

Now they’re both somehow existing in the same time and space in Yunho’s life as it is currently. For all Hojun had rolled his eyes in the past whenever Yunho had brought up Changmin, such incidents less so in the last decade, he’s the only friend Yunho’s got who hasn’t spoken out against Changmin’s sudden reappearance.

“I still think he had an odd possession kink back when you two were juveniles and it’s a million times worse now that you’re together and both adults and yet still unmated,” Hojun points out, when Yunho can’t stand it anymore and blurts out his confusion. “I don’t know how you hold him off, but you do you, I guess.”

They’re at work, in Hojun’s office. Today’s a bit of a rare lull where all the cases are small and paperwork is the most tedious thing on their plates. 

“Then?” Yunho persists, leaning forward. “You’re the only one who hasn’t raised his eyebrows. Heechul thinks it’s all a scam and Changmin’s after my money and the family land reserve and the house.” 

“Heechul is also a bitter piece of shit who will die unmated in his own dragon fire,” Hojun says, and snorts. He shuffles some files around, clearly stalling. 

Yunho just sits back and waits.

At length, Hojun sighs, and looks up. “Look. I don’t think your… not-quite-a-mate-yet mate and I will ever be friends. We’ve tried making small talk for your sake and there’s just nothing there. But I was also there in the years when you were a mess and how you were all stupidly stubborn that you no longer deserve him blah blah blah nonsense that I shall not repeat now.”

He clears his throat, eyeing Yunho cagily. Yunho’s struck dumb. Hojun continues, “You know I didn’t agree with you on that then and I still don’t agree with you now.” 

“But,” Hojun rubs a hand across his eyes. His claws are out, an indication of his discomfort with the entire conversation. “You’re a lot happier now that he’s here with you. You’re a lot more _you_. That’s all that matters to me. That itself is enough incentive for me to make as much painful human conversation with him as you like, either about the weather or the shifting boundaries of dragon reserves or how egg hatching rates are an all-time low. Just don’t ask me to go on a Shift with him and we’re solid.”

There’s a slow, sweet silence. 

“ _Hyung_ …” Yunho starts, voice soft.

“No, don’t look at me like that,” Hojun blusters, voice gruff. “No, don’t. Go away, Yunho-yah, your face is not something I want to look at. Stop smelling like that!”

\--

“I have to go back to Korea.”

“ _What_?”

“Mum says Dad is getting transferred back in three months. I...”

“That soon? But what about- school? What about… You can’t finish the school year? You. I. That soon?”

“Ask me to not go.”

“Changdol-ah.”

“Ask me to stay. I’ll tell Mum I’m staying with you. Or boarding at school. Or something.”

\--

They court each other, at Yunho’s request. 

For all Changmin grumbles and chafes loudly at it, he goes along. He nests, buying Yunho a new goose-down duvet, amongst various other knick-knacks that pop up around his little studio. Like a _kotatsu_ , with dumb smiling cartoon dragons printed on the fluffy blanket, which Changmin says is for his own convenience when he wants to watch J- _doramas_ on Yunho’s dinky little sofa. Like matching his-and-his fleece slippers, that simply just turn up one day on Yunho’s shoe rack. 

Yunho finds the long-expired food in his fridge have all been cleared out and replaced with neat little _bentos_ and filled Tupperware. There’s different prime cuts of _Ohmi kuroge wagyu_ and lamb, sustenance for occasions when they’re in their True forms. But there’s also containers and containers of strawberries and grilled _onigiri_ and _kimbap_ and even what is clearly homemade _kimchi_. 

Changmin claims loud and long those are for himself, because it’s getting colder and water bodies are freezing over and he’ll need to fuel up if he goes for a swim dragon-style.

Yunho's experienced that before, a memorable occasion when Changmin dragged him to Chidori-ga-fuchi, to frolic in the moat. Given how it's early winter and the cherry trees are bare and the boat vendors were closed, the area was nearly deserted and Yunho only spotted one other dragon pair in the far distance. 

Changmin had swum and was clearly delighted with the exercise. The freezing temperatures meant however that he popped up every half an hour to Yunho, nestled on the bank with their picnic baskets, to request for a thorough warming via dragon smoke before he was off again.

“In this weather?” Yunho says now, ducking his head to peer out the window. Snow is falling, calm and silent. “Can’t you go to one of the heated dragon indoor pools, or something?”

Changmin’s aghast. “Those cesspits of urine and sweat and mating stink? _Really_?”

Changmin’s also clearly more adept than him at nesting, so Yunho goes for the other end of the spectrum. He gathers things as a human, long-lost rare editions of _manga_ and games that Changmin goes very quiet at. 

After his Shifts, when he goes for long flights above the national parks to stretch out the kinks, he comes back with things. At first he tried bringing back fresh kills, cuts of venison that he hunted in the legal hunting grounds; but Changmin shouts at him for tracking prey blood into the flat. Never mind that he brought the carcass to an Other butcher and came back with the meat packed in civilized parcels. 

Changmin fries the cuts up for them anyway, or tucks the best bits into Yunho’s _bentos_ to bring to work. 

That, more than anything else, gives Yunho pause. His courting gifts are meant for Changmin, not himself. Changmin already takes excellent care of him. 

He goes for more flights even as the weather chills. Circling his usual haunts and then some, he brings back fat clutches of winter daffodils and plump pink peonies and beautiful _tsubaki_ for Changmin. Once, he comes across a late-bloomer of a maple tree, still vibrantly red with intact leaves in winter, and brings back a complete branch too. 

Changmin complains about the pollen, says they don’t suit his human nose, but still he goes out and buys different vases to tuck his spoils in.

\--

“I-”

“Ask me to stay. I’ll run away from home.”

“ _No_.” 

“Ask me, _hyung_.”

“I can’t, Changdol. I love you. I can't."

“ _Ask me_.”

“They’re your family. I can’t take you away from them.”

“But you’re my family, too.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Changmin. Please. I can’t.”

\--

Yunho’s never stopped loving Changmin, because dragons mate for life. Though their story is not quite the traditional good-drake-meets-cute-dragon-girl premise that humans like to dream up in their novels and films with Other representation. But relearning Changmin as an adult just made him fall deeper, and somehow makes the idea of them, Yunho-and-Changmin, even more real. 

His body agrees, because his scent deepens, changes slightly; even as the base of how his love for Changmin smells stays the same. 

But still, Yunho wants to take it slow, take them slow. Not because he isn’t sure. 

But there’s something lovely and sweet about this, savouring and learning about Changmin, bit by bit, little by little.

It’s the weekend, and the days are short and cold. 

Winter is fully upon them, and it means mornings find them nestled together on Yunho’s bed in their human forms, long limbs entangled under a thick winter duvet. Changmin’s curled tightly around Yunho fully-clothed, dressed in three jumpers and clutching Yunho in a death grip because he says fire dragons make the best heaters in winter. 

“If you think I’m sleeping on your sofa bed with that miserably thin blanket, you’re insane,” he first says when Tokyo experiences her first snowstorm of the year.

“ _I_ can sleep on the sofa bed then,” Yunho volunteers, just to be an asshole. He laughs at the flabbergasted expression on Changmin’s face. 

That night, Yunho falls asleep to Changmin’s face plastered against his neck and Changmin’s arms tight about him and Changmin’s legs entwined in his and the sound and scent of Changmin all around him. 

They spent two nights like this, three, five, six. Those multiply, until Yunho can’t be bothered to count and keep track because there are too many of them, each one mundane yet sweet.

He wakes now, when Changmin shifts, and peels himself from Yunho with an incoherent grumble. 

“Why- up?” Yunho manages, barely awake yet concerned. 

Typically Yunho is the earlier riser, and Changmin only gets up when Yunho’s left the bed, and that coupled with the loss of body heat chases Changmin into wakefulness. 

“Have a deadline,” Changmin yawns, and presses a dry kiss to Yunho’s cheek. The unshaven grain of his whiskers rub up and against the arc of Yunho’s cheekbone, and Yunho turns his face into the pleasurable scrape with a murmur. 

“My editor is chasing me for my food op-ed. It’s his own fault for making me re-write the bloody column. Said I wrote too much from the dragon’s viewpoint, when I talked about that _wagyu_ beef ramen stall I found in Nakano. The hell? I’m a fucking dragon. Of course I’m writing from a fucking dragon’s view-fucking-point. Apparently that means I'm not species-inclusive, whatever the fuck that is.” Changmin clambers off of the bed and makes for the door, bitching all the way. 

“M’friends think you’re a kept drake,” Yunho mutters, sitting up. Might as well, if even Changmin is up. He rubs his knuckles over his eyes, and rolls to his feet, following Changmin out to the kitchen. “Stop working so hard. I’m meant to be your sugar daddy.” 

“Sugar daddy,” Changmin scoffs, eyes still closed but somehow working Yunho’s dragonfire-proof coffee machine with sure fingers. “If anything, I’m the sugar daddy. Who keeps you fed and watered?”

“Are you a sugar daddy if you’re younger?” Yunho wonders, winding himself around Changmin, his front to Changmin's back. He breathes in and heats up his breath a little with dragonfire in his throat, exhaling warm puffs against Changmin’s ear and nape, just the way Changmin likes it. 

He still can’t believe Changmin is a columnist, with his own paper column in one of South Korea’s respected dailies, and a digital extension on the paper’s e-site. 

When he had expressed his surprise, Changmin just looked at him with dead eyes, pupils glowing reptilian slits. “I suppose you think that just because I left Korea so impulsively, I must not be a proper adult with a proper career.”

“I didn’t say that,” Yunho protested, apologetic. “And I do remember you always scored A on all your essays. I just didn’t think you’ll become a journalist, that’s all. I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.”

“God, Yunho, stop being an idiot,” Changmin snorted then, swiping a claw-tipped hand at him. “I’m taking the piss out of you. You look like you’re ready to set fire to yourself. Stop it.” 

“I’m still cold,” Changmin says now, smacking at Yunho’s arm, and buzzes him a little with static electricity. “And I’m the sugar daddy. You’re supposed to work for the sugar. Work harder. Warm me.”

“But you’re giving away the sugar for free,” Yunho points out reasonably, and closes his teeth gently on Changmin’s scruff. A shudder goes through Changmin, and he stills. 

Yunho worries at the skin with blunt human teeth, and works his way downward and around, till he’s at Changmin’s mating glands. Then, because most humans and Others think Yunho’s sweet and nice but that’s not quite true, he lets himself Shift, just a little, just so that his fangs are out. 

He rests them against Changmin’s mating glands carefully, not breaking the skin, the pressure barely there. He can feel Changmin’s heartbeat, trip-trip-tripping along, rabbit-fast.

The air is ripe with pre-mating stink. 

“Yun,” Changmin says, very soft. He’s trembling minutely, pressing against Yunho’s hands. “ _Hyung_. Don’t tease.” 

“You’re not cold now, are you,” Yunho whispers against the clean line of his throat, the words more shape than sound. Changmin shakes harder in his grasp. 

“Don’t tease,” Changmin gasps again, head bowed. He’s pressing his hips back into the hard curve of Yunho’s. “You said you wanted to court.”

Yunho lets his fangs fade away, and presses a soft, close-mouthed kiss against the bumps of the glands. A low whine sounds from Changmin.

Yunho pulls him around with a stifled growl, and takes his mouth in a hard kiss. 

It’s the first time they’ve done this, as adults, in their human skins. 

He eats at Changmin’s mouth, licks in, groaning when Changmin opens for him, and capitulates oh-so-sweetly, for a split second, mouth soft and lips pliant, before he remembers himself. Then he’s pushing back against Yunho, tongue curling around Yunho’s, the kiss hard and aggressive and messy and slick. 

His hand curves around Yunho’s chest, and slides down, sitting itself on Yunho’s waist with a punishing grip. He’s sucking on Yunho’s tongue and their hips are too tight together and it’s the best thing in the world and Yunho’s on the verge of saying “fuck courting, and let's just make it ‘fuck’”, when Changmin pulls himself back and away with a groan.

“Dick,” Changmin says, thumbing at his own bottom lip. His gaze is hot and blue.

“Yours,” Yunho grins at him. He knows his fangs are out again. 

Yunho’s phone chirps then, breaking the spell. It’s on the counter next to the coffee machine. 

Changmin grabs it and flings it at Yunho’s head with his claws, growling, “you better check that before I say fuck your courting shit and just fuck you instead.”

“Who says you’ll be the one doing the fucking?” Yunho sing-songs, but he’s unlocking his phone and it’s a text from Hojun and, oh. _Oh_. 

He looks up at Changmin, who’s got his scales appearing around the edge of his jaws and down in a swathe of pale blue. Yunho bites his lip. “It’s a snow day. There’s a forecast for a blizzard. The office is closed. For the rest of the week.”

Changmin’s eyes pale from sky to electric blue. 

Yunho closes his own eyes, and opens them upon an exhale. His claws are out, and he drops his phone as gently as he can back onto the counter. The screen is already scratched. “Is your column’s deadline today.” 

“It’s supposed to be noon,” Changmin returns. They both look at the kitchen clock. It reads a quarter past seven. “The post is supposed to go live at mid-afternoon.”

Yunho takes a deep breath and holds the mingled scent of their pre-mating stink in his lungs. “Do you still have a lot to write.”

“Four more paragraphs,” Changmin promises. He thinks, and revises it to, “maybe three. I already know what I need to change.”

“Hurry.” Yunho says. “After that, let’s go out together for a Shift.”

“Oh,” Changmin looks disappointed. His eyes fade back to a human brown. “I thought you. Er.” 

“No, Changdol,” Yunho stares at him meaningfully. “ _Let’s go out for a Shift together._ ”

“Oh!” Changmin blinks, and finally gets it. He grins. There’s too many sharp teeth in his human mouth. “ _Yes_.” 

\--

“Let’s run away.”

“No.”

“We can do it together, _hyung._ You know we can.”

“No, Changdol.”

“There are dragon reserves in Kyoto. If you want to go all secluded, there’s also Ishikawa. I did my research, they offer shelter to emancipated juveniles, and-”

“ _No_. Changmin. No.”

“Why do you… Why are you behaving like this? You love me.” 

“We can’t be that irresponsible. No.”

\--

Yunho putters around the flat, excited. He doesn’t dare to go near the cramped study-slash-balcony (unfortunately his studio is that small). 

Changmin needs to concentrate, if they want to be out of the flat fast enough. 

He keeps himself busy by doing deep breathing exercises, making sure his heart is calm and slow, and searching on his phone’s browser the largest and widest hot springs the greater Tokyo area has to offer.

By himself, Yunho knows the best flying spots and stretches with the best game in the region’s dragon reserves. 

But now it’s different. He wants Changmin to be comfortable. He wants Changmin to enjoy himself. He wants it to be special. He wants so many things. 

His finger hovers over a link which looks promising. Right. Nikko is lovely in the snow, and there’s a huge hot springs network that feeds its way into a large swathe of the dragon reserve slash national park up in the mountains. It’s also one of the biggest stretches of protected lands near-ish to Tokyo. It’ll have to do.

He just hopes they don’t run into any other zealous mating pairs out there. Looking at the snowstorm swirling outside his flat’s windows, he thinks (prays!) no one else is as crazy as the two of them.

“I’m done.” Changmin skids to a stop in front of him. His gaze is very bright and very blue. He’s still in a rumpled sleeping jumper and his plaid pyjama trousers. “I emailed my editor and told him not to bother me for at least five days and happy Christmas in advance.”

“Right,” Yunho says, smiling foolishly back at him. “Bundle up.”

Changmin blinks. “What? _Why_? I thought you said you wanted to mate.”

“Where?” Yunho feels the grin on his face widens so much that it’s hurting the edges of his human mouth. He loves this impatient shit of a drake too much. “Here? We’ll both break the studio if we Shift.”

“Oh,” Changmin says. Clearly this has not occurred to him, in all his considerable intelligence. He blinks, and goes back into the bedroom, making a beeline for the wardrobe. “Are we going to Shinjuku again? There are a lot of families, though. And humans. Although they may not be out in this weather. But still. Wouldn’t they be scarred-”

“Bundle up,” Yunho says again. He fishes out Changmin’s warmest and thickest cashmere scarf, hands it over. “You’re riding me while you're in your human skin. We’re flying to Nikko.”

\--

  
  


“Let’s make a promise.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I love you. But you know I can never ask you to-” 

“I know how important family is to you.” 

“Yes. I. You’re the most important of all, Changdol. But I can’t take you away, you see? You’re not just mine.” 

“Why not?”

“You’re just- not. I can’t be selfish like that. We can’t be selfish like that.” 

“I want to be selfish like that.”

“No. But. Okay. Let’s make a promise. It’s all right. This is not the end. We’ll both grow, and we’ll meet in _Todai_ , okay?”

\--

They make good time to Nikko. 

Yunho lands with a soft thud in the smallest snowdrift he sees, near the mouth of the hot springs. Up here in the mountains and in the national park, all the trees are bare, but the blizzard currently battering Tokyo has clearly been here and gone. 

The sky is clear and the air is crisp. Barely a hundred metres away, thick steam rises, curling up in great billows from the alkaline hot spring pools. Yunho sniffs at the air, and snorts. There’s barely any smell of sulphur in the air, which would have been detrimental to their noses in dragon form. Good.

“Oh, fuck, I think there’s snot frozen in my mouth,” Changmin’s laughing, and he slides down from where he has been huddled on Yunho’s back against the back of Yunho’s neck, gloved hands frozen and half-blind from the headwinds, and Shifts.

He coils quickly around Yunho, long serpentine body tight, and they nuzzle into each other for a heartbeat, crown to crown, head to head, jaw to jaw. 

Yunho breathes a small puff of hot smoke against the long horns arching from the top of Changmin’s head, warming them, before Changmin unwinds and slithers at top speed over to the pools. 

_Onsen_! He chirrups in glee, and dives in with a low rumbling purr. 

Yunho folds his wings back in, and minces his way across at a more sedate pace. His body heat is making the snow melt in great slushes, and it means his claws click and scrabble as they try to find purchase in the wet. 

He pulls dragon fire up from his belly, holding it and keeping his throat and chest warm, and settles at the edge of the pool to wait, wings tucked flush against his body. The alkaline spring is clear and the colour of Changmin’s eyes when he’s excited.

The clarity of the water also means he can easily see there’s no sight of Changmin. Yunho squints past the steam and cranes his neck. Did Changmin swim off to another pool or underground cavern? Yunho knows there’s an endlessly large network of them, a capillary of heated pools that link the mountains together, but-

There’s a blur, and then Changmin’s cutting through the water, body a sleek length of armoured blue. Then he’s heaving himself out, water pouring off him in great sluices and now he’s curling around Yunho again. He’s warm and slippery and Yunho doesn’t even care that the armoured spikes on their sides are catching against each other, pinpricks of pressure and friction, and Changmin’s pressing too hard against Yunho’s wings.

 _Hi,_ Changmin noses against Yunho’s jaw, and down to where his mating glands are; now prominently displayed in the crimson-and-black of Yunho’s leathery hide as a set of gill-like ridges. He’s still purring, a continuous rumble low in his chest, and his dorsal spikes as well as his crowning horns are glowing with the crackle of electricity. _Come here often, handsome?_

Yunho lets go of the fire in his belly, allowing it to disperse in a plume of black heated smoke and chuffs loudly, amused. _Why are you saying cheesy human one-liners? You’ve already got me._

 _I have, haven’t I?_ Changmin licks a stripe up Yunho’s armoured neck, and rubs the scenting glands under his eyes against the red-and-black thrust of Yunho’s crowning spikes behind his head. He takes one of them between his fangs and gives a gentle shake, retreating with a loud purr. 

_That’s half-hearted, Changdol._ Yunho butts his head up against Changmin’s and snarls in his face, fangs and sharp teeth on display, deafeningly playful.

 _I’ll show you half-hearted,_ Changmin hisses roughly, and shocks Yunho with a release of electricity, hard enough that Yunho jolts.

The chase starts, similar yet different to the day in autumn at Shinjuku. 

Yunho lets loose a bellow of dragonfire that singes the sides of Changmin’s long length and earns him a sulky roar. It also gets him a tail to his head, and Yunho ducks, swiping hard and drawing blood with his claws before launching himself backwards and upwards.

Then Changmin’s twisting himself up too, and dragging Yunho out of the sky and slams his head hard enough against the side of Yunho’s, that they both see stars. 

Here, surrounded by frigid cold and half-melted slush, they roll with each other, a harder edge to their snarls and growls, less playacting and more finally, finally getting down to business. 

Yunho pins Changmin first, great wings beating up a gale hard enough to shift half-melted snow out of the way. He’s got his fangs pressed against Changmin’s mating glands, not yet breaking through the thick scaly armour. His growl of contentment is loud, as he tightens his claws about Changmin's flanks, and holds on.

They’re already rubbing against each other, and Yunho arches, belly glinting with the fire of his low snarl. Then Changmin’s pushing up and back, long plated tail knocking Yunho off-balance, and he curls up and around Yunho again. 

They’re still lined up against each other, still connected.

Yunho’s thrashing, joy racing through him fiercely in a continuous fiery arc, like a plume of fire that goes on and on and on. Changmin’s got his fangs over the thick-ridged leather of Yunho’s mating glands now too, and he doesn’t hesitate, biting down hard and sinking razor-sharp teeth into the swollen tissue.

The twin sensations of pain and pleasure, wild and primal, draw a rumbling hiss from Yunho and he follows suit, imprinting his bite viciously onto Changmin’s mating glands, digging in deep and drawing blood. 

Changmin jerks in his grasp, pushing back, forearm and hind leg claws digging into Yunho’s sides, lighting up the snow with a prolonged crackle of electricity, even as Yunho presses hard against him, fire wreathing out from his nostrils. 

\--

“Is that okay? Or- I can go to Korea too, for university. I don’t care. If you want me to go there, I will. I just- I can’t take you away from your mother, you’re her only hatchling.”

“...We’ll meet in _Todai_. I’ll make sure I do well enough to get in. You better do the same.”

“Yes.”

“When the fireflies gather, and it’s the tail end of summer, let’s meet in _Todai_.”

“Yes, Changdol.”

“Don’t you dare break your promise.”

“Yes, Changdol.”

“Even if you break it, I don’t care. I’m coming after you anyway.”

\--

They mate once more in their actual bodies, licking over and over the mating scars to accelerate the healing, before deciding to Shift back into their human skins out of unspoken mutual accord. 

Yunho’s barely let all the scales recede before Changmin’s on him, a heavy and warm weight high up on his chest. He’s kissing Yunho hard, tongue curling around Yunho’s and he’s got his hands grasping too tightly at Yunho’s chest, scratching down hard and drawing blood again with his human nails.

Yunho pulls away, gasping, lust and love twining through him. He’s got his own hands wrapped too tightly around Changmin’s waist, and curved down, lower. “In me, now- I can’t wait-”

“No,” Changmin’s snarling in his face, eyes bright and hard and blue. He’s angling their hips together, lining Yunho up. “You’re fucking me first, I’m cold-”

“Oh, fuck, fine, yes please, I don’t care,” Yunho moans, head dropping back against wet slushy ground and hips driving up into warm heat. Above him, Changmin finally stills, a quivering moan truncated in the back of his throat. His lashes are fluttering sooty crescents against his cheeks. 

Yunho makes another sound and nudges up further into Changmin, until he’s seated up hard and high. For all Changmin keeps saying that he’s cold, the heart of him is supernova hot. He reaches out, and closes a fist around Changmin, fingers greedy and grasping. “ _Changmin_.”

“Oh, yes, Yun, mate me, take me,” Changmin’s gasping, head back and hands clawing raised jagged lines down Yunho’s chest and stomach. “Please, _hyung_ , please, love you, it’s always been you, there’s only you, please give it to me, yes-”

Yunho shafts up hard enough into him, grunting with the exertion, filling Changmin up. He’s trembling hard all over, eyes wide open and staring directly into Changmin’s glowing blue gaze. Then he falls back to land hard on his elbows in the slush, panting.

Changmin’s off of him at once and manhandling him, hands stroking and grasping and pulling. “Come here, come here. _Hyung_. Yunho. Come here.”

He’s pulling Yunho down and into the water, and Yunho sighs, the heated spring closing hot all around him. Inside the spring, his human form is light, and tall as they are, the pool is too deep for their feet to touch the bottom. 

They tread water, mouths finding each other again, and Yunho just breathes into Changmin’s mouth, his prior orgasm still sending aftershocks through him. 

Pulling away from his lips, Yunho ducks his head against Changmin's collarbones, panting, content to float whilst clinging onto the other.

Changmin wends himself tight around Yunho, like how he does in his dragon form, and he’s grinning, eyes crinkled unevenly. He noses at Yunho’s mating glands, the bite he's given them already scabbed over in this skin, and presses a closed-mouth kiss there, two. 

“I love you,” he is saying, low and urgent and happy. He’s got a hand cupped at the back of Yunho’s neck, and an arm around Yunho’s waist. His body is hot and hard and slippery and the hot spring is around them like a warm embrace. “I love you. _Hyung_. You’re my Yunho- _hyung_. You’re my Yunho.”

“You’re my mate,” Yunho returns, laughing, carefree. He curves his own arms around Changmin’s back, and curls his legs around Changmin’s waist, locking his ankles together at the small of Changmin’s back. “You’re mine. Changmin, you’re mine. I’m yours.”

“Yes,” Changmin says, pushing into Yunho. The curves of their smiles fit together, and his mouth catches sweetly at Yunho’s lower lip. “Yes. Yes.” 

\--

“ _Hyung_ , I need to go. My parents are both in the car.” 

“...”

“I told you we should have run away. I _told_ you-”

“Changdol-ah, don’t ever forget me, okay?”

“Don’t be stupid. Remember _Todai_.”

“Okay. Yes. Okay. I love you.” 

“When the fireflies gather, and it’s the tail end of summer, let’s meet in _Todai_.”

\--

It’s the tail end of summer, hot and sticky. 

This August is warmer than usual, and Yunho’s taken to sleeping in his human skin naked. Their air-conditioning is set to high, not that it works against forty degrees of summery sunshine, and he often wakes up in the middle of the night, overheated and befuddled.

In part, that’s due to how Changmin sleeps, curved tight around him, and he has a tendency to kick if Yunho moves too far away. So Yunho resigns himself to cat naps (dragon naps?) and watching home shopping videos on his phone, if it gets too warm and not even iced water -coupled with everything else- helps. 

Still, Yunho wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. 

It’s been more than six months since they officially mated, although there’s barely any difference, except for Yunho adding Changmin’s name to his family register. It’s a comfort to write the _hanja_ of Changmin’s name, with the _hangul_ in brackets, when before there was just Yunho’s own, lonely _kanji_ characters printed on the thick paper of the official document. 

Given how their relationship is obviously not egg-viable, Yunho had expected some form of discrimination. It's the twenty-first century, but society’s still not quite accepting of such relationships both of humans, and Others; and society’s not kind to people with life decisions that fall outside of the majority.

They face surprisingly little of it, however. Something that Changmin attributes with a snort to “your dumb face, Yun. When you look at people like that with that dumb earnest smile and those dumb eyes, you think they can work up enough bitterness to judge us?”

“It’s your face,” He says it again, when they’re doing their weekly grocery run, and Yunho’s got his hand interlocked with Changmin’s, and the young human housewives they encounter giggle admiringly behind cupped hands, rather than casting looks of disgust.

Changmin swings his hand hard, tugs Yunho along, to another faint chorus of giggles. “Your face should be outlawed.”

“No, yours,” Yunho tells him.

Yunho’s friends and acquaintances, Other and human both, greet the news with remarkable ambivalence, with more confusion than not, and one memorable “I thought you guys were mated as juveniles and then he had to go away and you were too stupid to chase him back.” 

“Er,” Yunho says, but that particular explanation amuses Changmin, makes him laugh so hard that his face is a mess, all white teeth and scrunched nose and squinched shut eyes. So Yunho guesses he’s fine with that, then.

 _My mate,_ he thinks sometimes, marvelling to himself when Changmin putters around their too-cramped flat, chattering about his newest column, and how his editor is totally a bastard again because Changmin’s keen to write and work remotely. He's not going back to Korea, being officially mated to Yunho. _My lawfully mated life partner, by dragon law. My husband, by human law. Mine._

He’s got his chin cupped in his hands, and he knows he’s probably gazing at Changmin like an idiot, but he doesn’t care. That’s his mate.

“Earth to Jung,” Changmin says now waspishly, snapping his claws in front of Yunho’s face. His general irritation with the world means he's got his claws out, and a faint tick of muscle tensing and un-tensing at his jaw. “Are you even listening to me? Is that what mating does to a dragon? Are we going to start having silent dinners now and you’ll go drink with Hojun at those nasty human salarymen _izakayas_ and only stagger back at dawn? Where has the romance gone?”

“Changdol-ah,” Yunho says, heart full. He beams at Changmin, and chuffs out a puff of barely grey warm smoke. His scent is heavy with the smell of their mingled mate stink. “I love you.”

Changmin turns a horrible and unflattering shade of red, and he’s got indigo scales running at the side of his temples and cheeks. It makes for a very odd and jarring colour combination. He's still gorgeous in Yunho's eyes. “What. What are you. Why must you.”

Yunho looks at him again, and comes to a decision. Or maybe he’s already decided for months and months, and is only verbalising it now. 

“The flat’s pretty small,” he says, almost too casually, and Changmin’s narrowing his eyes at him. They’re still brown, although there’s pinpricks of ice invading his gaze at Yunho’s strangeness. 

“So, it’s too small, and you were saying the other day we both can’t quite turn in the shower without banging an elbow,” Yunho continues, talking too fast. He pulls his gaze away from Changmin’s and looks out the window, where dusk has already settled over Tokyo. 

The studio’s on the second floor of their complex, and from here, Yunho can see the clouds of fireflies buzzing amongst the trees, blinking spots of little lights against rustling dark. 

There are more fireflies in Yanaka, great swathes of them glimmering over still-blue _susuki_ fields on sweltering summer nights. Changmin used to love chasing after them, as a juvenile. 

Yunho hopes he’s still fond of them, even now. It’ll be a great place for them to Shift, and play. Or maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. 

“Yunho?” Changmin’s concerned now. He’s padding closer, a hand outstretched. They taper into blue-black claws. “What is it?”

“Let’s move back to Yanaka,” Yunho says, taking hold of that hand and clinging on tight. Their claws entwine. “I don’t... Ebisu is nice and near my workplace, but it isn’t home. I know you can write anywhere, and we’ll still be on the JR line. Otherwise, I’ll just fly in every morning.”

“You closed up the house because of your parents,” Changmin ventures, cautious. “I know you still don’t want to talk about that because it’s painful, but-”

“No,” Yunho says, still clutching hard. He’s never letting go. “I shut it up and moved because it was no longer home. It was just a house.”

Changmin’s quiet. The hum of static electricity is loud between their clasped claws. Yunho looks at him. “Now I’m home. You’re home.” 

\--

“I like it when people say ‘ _tadaima_ ’ at the end of a long day and there is a reciprocating answer.”

“ _Okaeri_?”

“More than that… _Otsukaresama_. That I have worked hard, and done well.”

\--

It’s been a long day. 

Yunho’s had to handle three problematic juveniles actively hostile against receiving any form of official intervention or help, one after another. One of them is barely a new adult, having just gone through the Change by himself successfully and more than a little drunk on his accidental success. 

His youthful cockiness means he feels invincible and brazen enough to terrorize human schoolgirls in full view of an entire unit of social officers, and Yunho had to Shift himself, to fly hard and fast, darting across the skies to haul him back before he slipped through their fingers. 

The cases themselves were tedious and trudging, and the subsequent paperwork ten times more so.

In any case, it’s extremely late when Yunho finally gets to go home. 

He soars against a faint thermal updraft, remnants of the day, riding it to a high enough altitude that he’s able to glide, and enjoy the deepening chill of autumn against his wings and torso. 

Then it’s time to descend, and he swoops down, and over orderly green fields and picturesque houses with smoke puffing out from their chimneys, dainty like miniatures from his aerial view above. 

Yunho lands in their garden, back in Yanaka, and is careful not to step on the creeping grape vines Changmin’s got growing by the sides, on neat low wooden racks. He's on a crusade to try and make his own wine, and his readers (both Korean and Japanese; both Other and human) are exceedingly tickled by his exploits of being a budding viticulturalist.

Yunho shakes himself, and gives his wings a final stretch, before shedding them for human limbs. 

The back entrance door opens, and the netted screen is pushed ajar.

Changmin stands there, framed by warm light spilling out from the kitchen. He’s grinning, and he's got his arms folded in front of his chest, leaning against the door frame with his ankles crossed in an faux-indolent pose. 

Today he’s got his hair swept back from his face, and the glint of light off of his cheekbones and lashes make him look like he’s glided by fire. It’s worlds away from how Yunho left him in the morning, when he was a long length of duvet wrapped up with only a tuft of hair and one eyebrow visible. 

It’s also only autumn, but Yunho’s mate is ridiculous and already in a thick black jumper and wool trousers.

Yunho’s straightening, dusting off his jeans and patting down his tee. It's hopeless. His tussles at work means they're all scuffed by dirt. 

He gives up, going closer, and smiles up the steps at Changmin. “ _Tadaima_.” 

“ _Otsukaresama desu_ ,” Changmin says, pushing away from the door frame. Coming forward, he wraps himself around Yunho, and noses softly against Yunho’s ear.

Yunho presses his face into the side of Changmin’s neck, and inhales. He’s home. 

  
  


_\--- end._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mouldsee for letting me talk at her to figure out the biological mechanics of NatGeo-inspired lizard sex. 
> 
> As always-  
> Comments are love. x


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